


You

by Kit_Kat21



Series: The Direwolves [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Established Relationship, F/M, References to the Beatles, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “Sansa, any comment on the rumors of Jon being unfaithful to you?”“I have absolutely no comment on that except that I know it’s not true.”





	You

**Author's Note:**

> I actually had a dream about this and I woke up this morning and wrote this seemingly random story. The title comes from a George Harrison solo song and later, Jon and Sansa talk about "scruffs". When the Beatles were working in Apple Studios, girls waited outside for a chance to see them/get their attention. George later wrote a song called "Apple Scruffs" about them.

…

 

“Are you nervous?”

 

Sansa turned her head way from the car window to look at him beside her and she gave him a smile.

 

“Of course not,” she answered and there was a reason why she was an actress. She was fairly good at it, if she did say so herself.

 

Jon smiled at her and his hand gave hers a squeeze. Sansa squeezed back and turned, once more, to the window, her stomach knotting the closer the car got to the theatre where the show was that evening.

 

The truth was, Sansa was a bundle of nerves, but she wouldn’t dare show that to Jon. She loved Jon, but he would try to calm her down by talking to her about when _he_ attended awards shows and what _he_ did to keep himself calm. She loved Jon, but right now, she wanted to deal with her own nerves without her famous boyfriend giving her tips on dealing with fame.

 

Not only because she wanted to deal with it on her own, but also because Jon’s level of fame was completely different from hers. Even with the Direwolves having broken up, it had just been the year before and the Direwolves last album, _Let It Be_ , was still on the charts. People still rabidly loved and worshiped the band – and Sansa had a feeling that they always would. Sansa was a stage actress, having just finished her first season as the newest cast member in Braavos’ Shakespeare Theatre Company. She didn’t have any level of fame that Jon had. There were a few fans who waited at the backstage doors after performances for autographs, but they were nowhere near the mobs of fans who tried to accost Jon anytime he was out.

 

And Sansa honestly didn’t _want_ that level of fame. She very much liked that she could go to the market for some milk without having to worry about whether she was wearing makeup or not. Jon going anywhere on his own was impossible and now, being his girlfriend for the past year and few odd months, dating one of the most famous musicians in the world, Sansa was getting recognized more times than she was comfortable with, if she was being honest about that as well.

 

With her head still turned to the window, she heard Jon moving beside her and then his body was flush against hers, his chin resting on her shoulder.

 

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured to her, his nose nuzzling her jaw and breathing the scent of the faint perfume she wore that evening. “I’ve said that already, right?”

 

Sansa kept her head turned from his, but she knew he could hear the smile stretching across her face. “Too many times to count now,” she replied and Jon smiled, too.

 

He dropped a light kiss to her shoulder. “Thank you for wanting me to come with you tonight.”

 

He said that quietly and Sansa knew exactly why he was saying that. She turned her head to look at him.

 

His eyes were already on her face and his face was solemn. Sansa lifted a hand to his cheek and she pressed a kiss to his brow, hearing the soft, slightly shaky, sigh he released at the feel of her soft lips.

 

“Of course I wanted you to come with me,” Sansa said. “I already told you. I don’t believe it, Jon. Not for a second.” She had told him this already, as she reminded him; more than once, but she’d tell him again if he needed her to and he obviously needed her to.

 

That was another thing with dating one of the most famous musicians in the world. Tabloids and stories coming out about Jon every month in the tabloids; almost every single one of them a bold lie. Most times, Sansa – and Jon – didn’t even pay attention to what was printed about him, but this past story, it _had_ rattled Sansa – no matter what she assured Jon of.

 

Not that she, even for one second, believed that Jon would ever cheat on her, but still, seeing the story splattered across the front page of the most heavily circulated tabloid available, it was hard to ignore it no matter how badly she wanted to do just that. Jon had denied it the second it hit the public and his manager has already been in contact with a lawyer, prepared to sue the tabloid if they didn’t retract it.

 

Jon had told Sansa again and again that it wasn’t true. And Sansa had assured Jon again and again that she knew that it wasn’t true.

 

Still… it wasn’t exactly something easy to have to ignore; whether she knew it wasn’t true or not.

 

The car smoothly came to a stop at the curb and past the dark tinted windows, Sansa could see the dozens of flashes of camera bulbs and Jon kissed her shoulder again as Sansa took a deep breath.

 

The Essos Theatre Awards – the ETAs – were, of course, a big night for anyone in this particular world and Sansa had been nominated this year for _Best Newcomer_ for her role as Cordelia in _King Lear_. Sansa understood what others meant when they said it. It truly was an honor just to be nominated. Of all of the actors and actresses in the dozens of plays performed throughout all of Essos and Westeros, she was one of five that had been nominated. It was unbelievable and overwhelming and _frightening_ all at the same time.

 

“You ready?” Jon asked her.

 

Sansa didn’t respond; just took another deep breath. Jon kissed her cheek this time.

 

“You’re ready,” he then told her and Sansa nodded in agreement.

 

Jon stepped from the car first, the camera bulbs flashing like a sea of constant lightning. The fans who had gathered outside for the awards and the photographers both began shouting Jon’s name and screaming for him as soon as they saw that it was he who had arrived. Jon held up a hand in a wave and gave a smile before turning back to the car’s open door. He gave Sansa a smile and she managed to smile in return as she placed her hand in his and he helped her from the backseat.

 

She made sure her dress had fallen down and she was not inadvertently flashing someone. When she had showed Jon herself once she was fully dressed and her hair and makeup were done, Jon’s mouth had actually fallen open, leading Sansa to believe that she had chosen the right dress for this evening. It hung down to the floor with a slit up one leg and it slightly hugged her body, the material looking like melted, shining silver.

 

When the photographers saw her now and Jon put his arm around her waist, the flashes became more intense. She knew she would never get used to it. She had been on a few red carpets with Jon – other music-focused premieres of one thing or another – and the camera flashes were so blinding, she had to practically cling to Jon so the spots in her eyes didn’t cause her to trip or fall over.

 

Tonight, Jon’s arm was tight around her waist and thank goodness for that because as always, the screaming of the fans and photographers and the cameras was already overwhelming to her. But with Jon holding her, Sansa was able to smile and pose every few feet. She turned her head to look at Jon and Jon looked at her, both of them sharing a smile. The camera flashes seemed to increase in intensity and Jon leaned in, kissing her on the temple. Sansa nearly had to close her eyes from the reaction to that tender display and she pinched him on the back through his black suit jacket for that; knowing him showing her affection would get a reaction like that. Jon grinned at her in response and Sansa did her best to not roll her eyes at him.

 

Another step down the red carpet and Jon hung back as Sansa was ushered towards some of the reporters so they could ask her questions about that evening.

 

 _“Sansa, do you think you’re going to win tonight?”_ “It really is just an honor to even be considered for a nomination in any category.”

 

 _“Sansa, any comment on the rumors of Jon being unfaithful to you?”_ “I have absolutely no comment on that except that I know it’s not true.”

 

 _“Sansa, any news on when Jon will release some solo material?”_ “That’s a question for Jon, isn’t it?”

 

 _“Sansa, happy Jon was able to come with you tonight?”_ “Of course, I am.”

 

Sansa managed to keep the smile on her face as more questions came; most of them about Jon in one way or another. Sansa knew this would come with the territory of dating _the_ Jon Snow. She just wished that tonight, at the ETAs, Jon would be more in the background than usual. She should have known better. Jon was a Direwolf. He would not and never be in the background in any situation.

 

A minute later, Sansa turned away from the reporters and found that Jon was still standing there, waiting, and when their eyes met, his smile to her was instant and Sansa smiled, too, going back to him.

 

Finally, after a few more handful of minutes, they were able to leave the carpet and go inside to join everyone in attendance for the ETAs that evening, many lingering in the lobby, drinking champagne and socializing with others. Another photographer was in the lobby, taking candid photos, but he was much more subdued and very much keeping himself in the background so everyone could act more natural.

 

“Here we are, love,” Jon smiled, taking two flutes of champagne from a passing tray. He handed her one as before he took a sip of his. “It might help,” he then suggested.

 

“I’m fine, Jon,” Sansa insisted and wondered if her mask was beginning to slip and that was why he could see her nerves. She shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said again, in the middle of a deep breath, and Jon gave her a smile, wisely not saying anything otherwise. She took a sip of her champagne and Jon leaned in, giving her the lightest kiss on her lips, her eyes fluttering shut.

 

She heard the click of the camera and Sansa had to wonder if the photographer had been waiting for such a moment the instant she and Jon stepped into the lobby.

 

“I love you,” he said quietly.

 

Sansa opened her eyes again to give him a soft smile. “I love you, too.”

 

They finished their champagne and deposited their empty flutes on another passing tray. Jon then took her hand and they began making their way to one of the sets of doors that led into the theater. Holding his hand was how Sansa was able to feel Jon tensing the very second he did. She looked at him curiously and then looked to see what was responsible for the change.

 

These were theater people. Not Jon’s usual crowd, though he knew the other members of the Shakespeare Theatre Company from visiting at various rehearsals and attending after parties. But none of her fellow cast members would cause Jon to stiffen like that. There was a young woman standing at the set of doors they were heading towards, holding programs in her arm and handing them out with a smile for everyone. Sansa looked at her for a moment. She was very pretty – dark red hair like copper, striking green eyes. Sansa then looked to Jon and he wasn’t looking at the girl, but Sansa caught him glancing in her direction. And then, as if knowing that he was, the program girl’s eyes landed right on Jon and stayed there.

 

It was Sansa’s turn to stiffen.

 

Jon gave Sansa’s hand a gentle tug and without a word, he guided her through the people to another set of doors to lead them into the theater. Sansa couldn’t help, but be tempted to pull her hand from his, suddenly no longer wanting to hold it.

 

“It’s not what you think,” Jon told her quietly as they headed down the aisle, following behind the usher who was leading them to their seats.

 

“You have absolutely no idea what I’m thinking,” Sansa replied, giving smiles to those who she knew as they passed, not letting anyone know that anything was the matter in the least between herself and Jon.

 

Maybe it wasn’t too hard to understand why she was up for an acting award.

 

“Sansa,” Jon began to say.

 

“Jon, not here,” she said, looking to him again.

 

She wanted to add _“not tonight”_ , but she knew this wouldn’t be able to keep until tomorrow. That girl out there, she was obviously someone to Jon, and Sansa had to wonder if the tabloid stories of Jon’s fidelity – or lack thereof – had any grain of truth to them after all.

 

She didn’t want to believe that. She _couldn’t_ believe that. She and Jon had been in love with one another in one form or another for years now. Jon had written so many songs about her and his love and feelings for her. He had told her too many times to count. She was his muse. Jon wouldn’t just sleep with someone else. He wouldn’t just cheat on her; not with the love they had between them.

 

But the program girl in the lobby and the way she had looked at Jon and the way Jon had stiffened when he had looked at her, no matter what the truth of the matter actually was, the unmistakable seed had been planted in the back of Sansa’s mind now. She could feel the smallest grain of doubt take root and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it.

 

…

 

A couple of hours later, when they announced the winner in the _Best Newcomer_ category, Sansa didn’t win and she actually found herself relieved at that as she clapped and smiled for the winner as they took the stage – not just because she knew the camera was filming her reaction to losing, but because she was really glad about not winning herself.

 

The entire awards show, she has felt distracted despite her constant reminders to herself to pay attention. She couldn’t help it though. She had lost count of how many times she had to remind herself that Jon wouldn’t cheat on her. No way, no how, in no form would Jon be with someone other than her. And she hated that she had to remind herself of such a fact so many times.

 

There was another reason she was glad she didn’t win. If she did, deep down, she would wonder if she had won for being Sansa Stark, Cordelia in _King Lear_ , or if she won for being Sansa Stark, _the_ Jon Snow’s girlfriend.

 

…

 

Sansa didn’t say a word the entire way home after the awards show. There was an after party – several in fact – and Jon knew that he would go without complaint if she wanted to attend, but he was thankful when Sansa had told the driver to take them home instead. He wanted to talk with her about what happened in the lobby and it was a conversation he didn’t want to wait any longer to have.

 

As soon as the front door was closed behind them and Jon made sure it was locked and the alarm was set, Sansa headed into their living room to lean against the couch so she could remove her heels and Jon followed after her.

 

“Sansa-”

 

“Was she a scruff?” Sansa asked before he could say anything further. She turned to look at him. “Or is she someone more recent?”

 

The second part of her question made his back stiffen. “More recent?” He had to repeat. “Are you asking me if she’s the mysterious girl, who doesn’t even exist in the first place, from the tabloid in a story that’s not true in any sense of the word?”

 

“So, you’re answering my question with another question?” Sansa wondered.

 

Jon calmed himself down immediately and exhaled a deep breath. Now was not the time to be angry or defensive. Sansa was hurt. His girlfriend was a phenomenal actress, but she couldn’t hide that in her eyes; not from him. She was hurt and hurting Sansa in any shape was always the absolute last thing Jon ever wanted to do.

 

That was the reason he had been so quick to sue the tabloid for his rumored cheating; emphasis on the word _rumored_. Normally, he wouldn’t care. Being a Direwolf, he was used to the tabloids all printing at least one new lie about him each week, but this latest story – whether she believed it or not and she said she didn’t, but still – Jon knew it had hurt Sansa just at the story being out there and Jon would do anything to protect her. She didn’t ask for the repercussions of the fame that came with being a Direwolf. Dating one and being in love with one didn’t mean she was open for the same piles of shit he had to go through.

 

“Was she a scruff?” Sansa asked again.

 

“Yes,” Jon finally gave her the answer. “It was one time and I haven’t even thought of her since…”

 

“How long ago?” Sansa asked next and she was holding her shoes tightly as she looked at him, waiting.

 

Jon understood why this question was so important. “It was when I was dating Ygritte.”

 

“So you cheated on Ygritte?” Sansa took a small step back and Jon didn’t care if she even realized she had done so or not. _He_ had noticed and he was quick to close the space between them, his hands curving around her elbows, keeping her from stepping away.

 

“Yes, I cheated on Ygritte, but she cheated on me a few times, too,” he told her. “What Ygritte and I had, or _didn’t_ have, is nothing like you and me, Sansa. Absolutely nothing. I would never cheat on you. Never.”

 

Sansa looked at him, into his eyes, and she was quiet for a minute. Just a minute, but it might as well had been a million minutes in Jon’s opinion.

 

“Okay,” she then said and nodded, lowering her eyes.

 

“I love you, Sansa. I’m going to marry you.”

 

“Okay,” she then said again and Jon felt his hands tighten around her elbows.

 

“Say something else, Sansa. Anything.”

 

“Fine. You want me to say anything?” Sansa dared him and Jon already knew he was probably going to regret this, but it wasn’t easy dating him. He knew that. Sansa had more than earned the right to say absolutely anything to him that she wanted.

 

Jon nodded in confirmation to her question and Sansa broke herself away, Jon releasing her so she could.

 

“I have slept with two guys in my life. Harwin and you,” Sansa told him and Jon didn’t dare wince though he wanted to at just the mention of his friend and her ex-boyfriend. “And I can guarantee you that Harwin doesn’t remember what I look like naked.”

 

Jon wanted to argue with that. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Harwin remembered every single detail of Sansa’s naked body. He can’t imagine anyone being ever able to forget a single thing about Sansa Stark. But Jon wisely kept his mouth shut and his opinion to himself.

 

“Do you think, for one second, that that girl in the lobby tonight didn’t look at you and was immediately remembering what _you_ look like naked?”

 

Jon began shaking his head. “That doesn’t matter-”

 

“It does to me, Jon!” Sansa shouted at him. “It matters to me! How can it not? How many girls are out there, right now, who know exactly what you look like and what you’re like in bed?”

 

Jon was quiet. She wasn’t asking for a list; he knew that and he wasn’t stupid enough to offer her one.

 

“How many girls are out there, right now, who _could_ contact a tabloid and feed them some story about you, whether it happened years ago or just yesterday?” Sansa demanded of him.

 

Again, Jon was quiet. He didn’t have an answer to any of what she wanted to know.

 

Yes, there were girls. A lot of them. He, Robb, Theon and Grenn… they were the biggest band in the world and even not together anymore, they still were. There had been girls everywhere and being young, good-looking guys, yes, they had used that to their advantage. There would be absolutely no use in denying that. And being in a band, in his early twenties, he didn’t think of how sleeping around could come back when he was older – in a serious relationship with a woman he loved and wanted to marry – and bite him in the ass.

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Jon finally admitted in a quiet voice.

 

Sansa sighed softly. “I don’t know what I want you to say either,” she said, quiet, too, and she turned, sitting herself down on the couch.

 

She realized she was still holding her heels and she set them down on the carpet next to her feet. Jon paused a moment, not knowing if she wanted him to or not, but then he came to sit down next to her.

 

“I’m sorry,” he told her because he figured that that was always a good place to start.

 

Sansa shook her head though. “I just… I don’t know how to date you,” she admitted. “I’m not even a person when I’m around you. I’m just half. I’m never Sansa. I’m Sansa, _the_ Jon Snow’s girlfriend.”

 

Jon felt his heart freeze in his chest at that. “Sansa,” he said her name and his arm went around her lower back, pulling her body into his side. She didn’t stiffen or fight to get his arm away. He considered both of those victories. “I’m sorry. I know being with me isn’t easy. I know it’s all too much most of the time. I’d go crazy if I had to see guys you’ve slept with or read tabloids that said you weren’t being faithful. I’d lose my fucking mind, to be honest.”

 

Sansa didn’t say anything to that; just lifted her eyes to look at him.

 

“I hate that being with me hurts you,” he then said in a quieter voice. “You shouldn’t have to hurt when you’re with someone.”

 

And a considerably less possessive Jon Snow when it came to Sansa Stark would have told her that she didn’t have to be with him anymore. But he _was_ possessive over her and madly in love with her and couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. He couldn’t not be with her and could only hope she felt the same.

 

“Jon,” she said his name. Her eyes looked into his and Jon stared into hers, wishing he could read the exact thoughts on her mind right now. “I do love you. So, so much.”

 

Jon found himself bracing for the “but” he was certain was coming next.

 

“And I trust you and I know you love me, too,” Sansa continued and Jon kept himself quiet, not wanting to interrupt her as she said whatever she wanted to. “It’s just… hard.” She whispered the last word; as if ashamed that that was how she felt.

 

Jon brushed his lips across her temple and then left them there. “I’m sorry,” he said again because he honestly felt that that was the only thing he could say right now; no matter how little those words actually helped the situation.

 

“You just had to be a Direwolf, didn’t you?” Sansa then asked and Jon’s lips curved into a smile against her skin. “You couldn’t have just kept performing at weddings and parties and never amounting to anything?”

 

Jon was grinning now and he pulled his head back to find Sansa smiling now as well. The longer he looked to her face, his smile faded. “I’d become a hermit for you Sansa Stark,” he said with absolute seriousness.

 

Sansa was smiling and he watched as it softened at his words. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Jon Snow,” she replied.

 

He couldn’t help, but smirk at that. “How many #1 songs have I written with you in mind?” He wondered.

 

He broke into another grin when Sansa rolled her eyes and pinched him on the back just as she had done earlier on the red carpet. She then lifted a hand and curving it around the back of his neck, she kissed him. Jon wrapped both of his arms around her without pause, holding her tight and close.

 

Whether Sansa believed him or not, Jon meant it. First thing tomorrow, he would check with his manager and lawyer and see if there were updates on the tabloid lawsuit and then, he would sequester himself inside his and Sansa’s house for the unforeseeable future where no one could see him and no one could bother Sansa with constantly bringing up his presence. He had a solo album to begin work on. He had some songs already. Whether they were any good, he didn’t know quite yet.

 

He had a few new songs about his muse that he wanted to get down on paper as well.

 

And he also had an engagement ring to design.

…

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/32420670777/in/dateposted/) [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/46447699295/in/photostream/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading!


End file.
